Jesus Comes to Camp Half Blood
by yarnybear
Summary: You told me I couldn't write humor. I tell you to read this and eat cow chips. This story is self explanatory. A kid called Jesus goes to camp. Yah. I should really work on this story....
1. A Bottle of Wine or two, or three

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. Rick Riordan does. I do not own Jesus, either. I don't own anything.  Just like a bum or hobo. But they have cardboard refrigerator boxes, and I don't even have that. :(

**Jesus Comes to Camp Half Blood**

**Chapter 1**

My father told me to take a vacation from my holy job. He said that I shouldn't have to work all day and all night, for two millennia. He gave me brochures for all the summer camps across the earth.

And I chose this one. Camp Half Blood, full of kids of the pagan Olympian gods (I was disgusted at their paganness. Christians don't sacrifice animals or use sex for prayer. Hieros Gamos isn't fashionable, pagans. Unless you happen to be Jacques from the _Da Vinci Code_.)

I rode my mule to the camp, in a place called Long Island, in New York, in the United States of America. I walked some to rest my mule.

Camp Half Blood. It was beautiful, breathtaking. My father had certainly shed his grace for it.

There was a large house with a wraparound veranda. It was surrounded by fields of strawberries, a small forest, and had a lake.

There were Greek buildings. These pagans were so _out. _I could hear the laughter of children, and smiled.

But what got me were the satyrs. They pranced around on goat feet, like little Satans brought up to the ground. They were DEVILS, and I'd have to purify them.

This repulsive, _impure _man with eyes all over his body came to take my bags. He led my mule away, too. He said it was to the stables, but I'd check up on it later. Devil men always lie.

So I was introduced to all my fellow campers at lunch.

The short, fat, red man stood up. I could tell he was a sinner. "Everyone, let me introduce Jesus Christ, son of God." He had a bit of a sarcastic tone in his voice.

I had gotten a seat by myself. I pushed the seat back, and got up. I waved to everyone. "May God forgive you for your sins. Be safe, trust God." I sat back down.

There were snickers from the other campers.

Two boys came over to my table. I was eating stuffed grape leaves and grape juice. There seemed to be a lot of grape products.

"So, Jesus, is it true that if we believe in you, we'll live forever? By the way, my name's Travis, and this is Connor." They were grinning, like sinning little monkeys. I didn't trust them a bit.

"Yes, what God has willed must happen. Believeth in me, and you shall not perish, but have everlasting life. But in Heaven, not Earth. I don't see why you would want to spend eternity in a stinking pit of whiners-" I hurriedly put my hand over my mouth, ashamed. I would have to pray for myself later. "I'm sorry; I don't know what came over me. To answer your question, you will live forever, with God in Heaven."

The boys, Travis and Connor buried their heads in the hands and started laughing uproariously. They banged their hands on the table, and the Hermes (pagans, obviously) table started laughing.

The laughter spread to all the other tables, even the staff table. I was ashamed for them. I'd pray for them all. They must have been brought up weird, because you were so supposed to show respect to Jesus Christ, son of God.

My face burned red, and I left the pavilion. I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Jesus, but these people don't understand you." It was a girl, with perfect blond curls and pretty, sparkling blue eyes. She had a charming, sweet voice and looked innocent. I thought I could trust her. "I'm Silena Beauregard, daughter of Aphrodite. I want to get to know you…and maybe be your friend."

I smiled. "You are very friendly, Sirena. God blesses you."

So my first day wasn't so bad, except for all the laughers. I hoped they would go to hell. Oops. I immediately crossed myself, and started praying.

I slept in the Big House. My bedside table didn't have a Bible. So I started decorating.

I filled the bookshelf with Bibles, Gutenberg and King James. All the books. My little collection was worth a fortune.

I set up a little altar with a statue of Mary the Virgin, my mother.

I bowed in front of it, my eyes closed. My hands were clasped together. My lips moved silently, praying for all the pagans and sinners. I thought about how miracles were always happening, the beauty of the world, and the kind, compassionate girl, Silena Beauregard.

After my prayers, I went to sleep.

-

The sun shining through the windows woke me up. I got up, stretched, and yawned. I got dressed, choosing my simple cotton garments.

As I was heading down the Big House's hallways, I saw a creeping figure. I thought it was best to ignore it, so I continued walking to the pavilion for breakfast.

Suddenly, someone jerked the back of my shirt, and I fell backwards, off balance. Someone whispered in my ear.

"Kid, you say you can turn water into wine. Do it, and I'll give you a security pass so you can leave this camp whenever you want." The voice was gruff and coarse and slightly slurred.

"Dionysus, is that you?" I knew that voice, I was sure of it.

"Shut up, kid. Don't use names. Names have power. That's why those lousy Jews use "Tetragrammaton" instead of God. And anyone can hear names. My name is Mr. D. Got that, kid?"

"Sure, uh, Mr. D, I said. How much do you need?" I wanted that pass. There was a good church near Camp Half Blood. I wouldn't even have to go far.

"Here, kid," There was a thump, and a twenty four pack of bottled water landed in front of me. "Get it done as fast as you can."

So I bent down and laid my hands over the bottles. Concentrating, I imagined that the water became purplish red. I thought about vines baking in the sun, people squashing vats of grapes with their bare feet….

I heard a hiss of surprise. "Great kid, here's your pass."

I opened my eyes and saw the water bottles were filled with wine. A laminated paper pass was shoved into my hand.

I heard huffing and puffing and some swearing. Mr. D. was leaving.

I would have to pray for him. Mr. D. was an alcoholic, and he needed treatment.

-

At breakfast, Silena waved me over to her table. All her friends, or half-sisters and half-brothers, had perfect, angelic faces, like little cherubs.

"So, Jesus, can you spare some of your limitless wisdom?" Silena asked. "I've heard _so much _about you!"

"Uh..sure." This was weird. No one had ever asked me that. "Love is everything. We should not hate or fight or hurt or kill.

I was getting into this preaching thing. "Love ourselves, pray for our enemies, that one day they won't be enemies, but forever friends. Love is power, and everything can be healed by time and love."

Silena and her friends were nodding their heads. They agreed with me.

I knew that Aphrodite and her children would be my forever friends.

**Author's Note: You told me I couldn't write humor, so go eat cow chips. **

**Anyway, hopefully this is a short, short story. And stays at one chapter. Because I would really rather work on my other story, **_**Why Do I Always Run out of Room When I Choose Titl**_

**But this idea just popped out at me, and I'd have to write it, or be tormented by regret and boredom.**


	2. Walking on Water

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. Rick Riordan does. I do not own Jesus, either. I don't own anything. ******** Just like a bum or hobo. But they have cardboard refrigerator boxes, and I don't even have that. :(**

**NOTE: DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE EXTREMELY, IRREPARABLY RELIGIOUS. IF YOU ARE OFFENDED, THIS IS JUST A JOKE, A SATIRE, MADE BY AN ATHEIST.**

**Chapter 2**

**Walking On Water**

I decided to write a letter, tell everyone how it had been in Camp Half Blood. I added a somewhat…fake cheery tone, and sealed and stamped it. My stamp was a Christmas stamp, a picture or me with a golden halo and a donkey. I liked Christmas stamps.

I rode my donkey to the post office, but on the street, I met a bundle of shivering rags. I went up to the bundle, and realized that it was a man, though a somewhat filthy one. "Hello man, why are you so sad?" I asked.

"Get lost, I don't want your charity!" The man cried, flinging his arms at me. I noticed that his eyes were staring at the same direction, never moving. They were staring at something in the horizon. I turned to see, but there wasn't anything. He wasn't looking at me, and I was standing right in front of him. He was blind.

"I'll help your eyes, sir. After all, don't they call me 'the miracle worker from Galilee'?" I said, amiably. I plopped myself on the ground next to the blind man. 

"Are you a doctor?" The man turned his head to me, to hear me better, or so I thought. But he stared stiffly ahead, and it was really creepy. "Cos I can't afford no doctor, and I got no insurance."

"I am a doctor...of a sort." I replied smoothly. "Don't worry; it won't cost you a thing, because the good Lord provides for everyone and everything."

"Whatever." The man propped his had in his rag covered hands. "Just give me the meds and go."

"My healing isn't pills and medicine. It is healing of the spirit and soul using faith and the power of love." With this, I picked some mud from the ground and spat into it, turning it into a muddy paste. "Rub this on your eyes and wash your face in the fountain over there. After that, you will have a new lease on life."

The man felt around for the mud, until I pressed it onto his eyes. He screamed.

"ARGH! There's mud! In my eyes!" He started to get up.

I held his shoulder. "Since you can't see, I'll help you." I was being a gallant, polite young man.

I helped the blind man hobble to the fountain, and then I dunked his head in. He began to thrash, and I received some rather curious looks from passersby. I pulled him up, and then dunked him again, until I did it twelve times. I was singing to myself as I worked. Did I mention that I love gospel and Christian pop and rock?

I pulled the man out. He lay gasping at the base of the fountain, his matted hair wet and water streaming down his face. He yelled.

"ARGH! I CAN SEE AGAIN!" He waved his hands in front of his face, and I left him prancing in the fountain.

--

I walked to the post office, joy in my step. I had cured a man. I admitted that since I had done this same trick before, it wasn't as good or original. And the passersby had probably though that it was a publicity stunt, not a miracle being worked. These days, everyone had lost faith and started believing in money. Capitalism and commercialism was what everyone believed in. I clucked my tongue. Everyone should believe in faith.

I swung open the post office door. A quaint little bell on the top rang, sending a few cheery notes through the air. A man at the counter looked up. I walked up to his desk.

"Excuse me, but can you send this to my friend Mary Magdalene in Israel?" I really liked Mary. Mary was a former sinner, a prostitute, to be exact. I had won her over to the ways of faith and love and Christianity. Mary was my good friend. In fact, she'd cry over me if I got crucified, and stay at my grave for three days if I died. Mary was a good Samaritan. 

The man guffawed. "Are you freakin' serious, little man?" He put his pen down, tears dripping down his face.

"Yes, sir I am." I was rather put out that he had mentioned my height. God, people from two thousand years ago were smaller than current people. It was scientific fact.

"Ah well, I'll just humor you then." The man, still choked by the force of his laughter, took my proffered envelope and stuck it into a canvas bag in the corner. "This is air mail, so it may take a while." He turned around, grabbing a handful of Kleenex tissues from a box under his desk. 

I turned and left, the bell jingling to the sound of laughter and nose blowing. I was glad that I had made someone happy. There weren't too many happy people in the world, and I intended to change that.

--

I walked back to Camp Half Blood in time for lunch. I had some grape leaves stuffed with rice and shrimp, and it was delicious.

Dionysus, the head of the Camp, stood up. "You'll be going to the lake after lunch, having a picnic dinner. Chiron will take you." He sat back down, his chair creaking in complaint.

So we went to the lake. It was a clear, beautiful lake, framed by the forest. It had a wooden pier where people would jump off to swim. I stood on the edge, staring at the water. There were fish women! I flinched. Obviously, God had punished these sinning women for sinning by turning them into fish. I turned my head away from them. God had done the same to lepers; everyone who looked like that deserved it.

"Hey, little man!" It was one of the twin brothers. He was grinning, his eyebrows raised mischievously. "How do you like Camp?" 

I started to say that it was a wonderful experience, but some of their values weren't as high as my holy ones. Then I felt a push. 

I fell off the pier with a scream. Then I hit the water. Literally. 

I landed on my knees on the surface of the water, my knees and shins skinned on impact. They hurt like…uh, the Devil! Yes, that was a good expression. The water was three feet under the pier, and I had been pushed hard. I was going to look bruised later on.

A boy with black hair swam languidly over to me. "Well, I didn't know you could walk on water!" A girl with bedraggled blond hair nudged him in the ribs, and they both swam off giggling to some private joke. 

I got up, and my knees hurt. I walked on the water, my feet slapping the small crests and waves. It was like walking on asphalt, though it was a bit stickyish. I can't really describe it to someone who has never done it, and most people have never done it. I guess because you people are sinners. God gives to those who are pure, like _moi_. 

I pulled myself onto the pier, my arms straining with the effort. The mean twins stood on top, their faces frozen into a shocked expression. Obviously, one of them tried to distract me, while the other pushed me onto the lake.

I hoped they burned in Hell. But then I crossed myself, muttering about being nice, or Father would take my gifts away. I did _not_ intend to be a sinner. Even though I lived among them, I would try and be pure, like my mother Mary. Mary didn't even have sex to have kids, she was that pure.

I just sat in the grass, on a red and white checkered picnic blanket. I went through the basket of food until I found a skin of mare's milk. I started to drink it. I liked the sour taste, and it had always been my favorite, over the years.

I studied the weave of the basket, looking at the reeds woven carefully together. I went over woodworking patterns in my head. I was a good carpenter, my foster father, Joseph, always said. I could make a cabinet in three hours, all glossed and sanded and pretty. I sighed. I missed my family.

**Author's Notes: Sorry about not updating very often. I wanted this story to stay short. I had other stories to work on: **_**Why Do I Always Run Out Of Room When I Choose Titl**_** and **_**Tsarevich**_**. You should read them.**

**This isn't as humorous as the first chapter, but I'm getting really stressed with school and homework, so slapped this down in forty five minutes.**

**You must realize that Jesus is a bit naïve, since he hasn't been on Earth for two thousand years. He can't really accept current ways of life, because he's…old fashioned.**


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